Nightmares Made Flesh
by xoxshakeit
Summary: The balance between light and dark is universal, and must never be out of balance. When dreams were made flesh this balance was disrupted, and in order for the universe to be at peace with itself, nightmares were made flesh.
1. Prologue

When dreams became flesh the universe found itself in an interesting position. The natural balance was thrown off, and to counter act this happening the opposite of dreams was needed. The night at the altar Jaenelle Angeline was suppose to survive. The very moment witch fled from the body, her sister was born in Pruul, under Zuultah's reign.

Unknown to the universe things did not go as foreseen, and the dreams made flesh became nothing more than a myth again, as the body of Jaenelle Angeline, the vessel of witch, took her last shaking breath, and dreams made flesh returned to the darkness. The hearts of all those that knew the witch-child, were broken, and Saetan SaDiablo, and his son Daemon Sadi returned to the keep to mourn the loss of the queen they had waited centuries for.

As the night faded into day, a young sapphire jeweled witch carried her new-born baby girl down the steps of the home she shared with her husband a grey jeweled warlord who was seated in the kitchen. As the dark haired witch sat next to her husband, he gazed at the baby she held in her arms with pride, both unknowing that their beautiful baby girl was more than she appeared. They were unaware what exactly the emerald eyed girl was; nightmares made flesh, a myth in her own right, and uncelebrated and wanted by everyone.


	2. Chapter 1

Years had passed and Taryn Elizabeth Larine was now eight. The year before she had went through her birth right ceremony, and returned with an uncut rose jewel. Her parents, though slightly disappointed that their daughter wasn't gifted a stronger jewel, didn't let it show as the green eyes they had grown to love so much smiled at them proudly. Unknowing to them she wasn't just granted the single uncut rose jewel, but with two uncut sets of white, yellow, tiger eye, rose, summer-sky, purple dusk, opal, green, sapphire, red, gray, and ebon-grey, and twenty-three uncut black jewels, all given to her by Lorn himself. Having decided it would be best to hide her strength, Lorn instructed her to summon a pouch. Putting the rest of her jewels inside, she vanished them to a safe place. Hugging Lorn, she sighed as she knew it was time to get back to her family, and life.

Now a year into her craft lessons, Taryn sat near tears as her third instructor attempted to quit.

"I'm sorry Isabelle, but she's just too simple minded to learn even basic craft!" The green jeweled witch exclaimed. "I won't waste my time teaching someone who doesn't have the ability to move a single object."

"Zeeyah, please" She pleaded walking after her. "Just move on and try something else. Don't give up on her, she can't be let down again."

Shaking her head Zeeyah looked Isabelle in the eye. "She's just not teachable; I don't see the point in continuing her studies when she hasn't been able to grasp anything."

"Just be patient, I know she can do it."

"One more week, and that's all Isabelle." She said pointing a finger in the younger, but more powerful witches face. "If Taryn doesn't improve I'm finished."

Before Isabelle could say anything else, the door was being shut in her face. Leaning her forehead against the door she tried to relax herself. She couldn't understand why her daughter was failing so miserably at her lessons, she was a brilliant girl.

"Mother?" A tiny voice questioned with a sniffle.

Turning around, and straightening herself out, Isabelle's eyes landed on the small girl that was hesitantly standing in the doorway to the hall, her expression a mixture of embarrassment, and sadness.

"Sweetie, I'm sorry about Zeeyah, she was just having a bad day. Don't worry; she'll be back on Monday for lessons." She said walking over, and kneeling in front of her daughter.

There had always been something different about her, but Isabelle could never put her finger on it. When Taryn was a baby she hardly ever fussed. As she grew she was never playful, or loud like the other children in the village. She stuck to herself, and would go off on her own, something that terrified the sapphire witch. Pruul was no place for anyone to wonder alone in, especially a child. Taryn was also infamous for zoning out. She'd be in the middle of something and would just stop and stare off into nothing. Isabelle worried for her greatly, at time she didn't know what to do with her.

Then there were those eyes, those lovely emerald eyes, that held too much in them for them to belong to a child of eight years. Isabelle could never look into them too long, she was afraid of what she's see in them, and she feared that one day if she stared too long she would end up fearing her own daughter.

"What are you thinking about?" Taryn questioned, shaking her from her thoughts.

"Nothing, nothing at all, just daydreaming." She said, before patting the young girl on her head, and staring at the dark brown, almost black, hair that belonged to her daughter. "Why don't you just run along and play, I'm going to start dinner." Standing up, she smiled at her slightly, and shooed her to the door.

Nodding, she hugged Isabelle around her waist, and smiled up at her. "I won't be long."

Watching as her daughter skipped from her view, and out the door, she sighed, and leaned her body against the nearest wall. The voice that had just spoken to her had sent chills down her spine. Shaking her head, she tried to tell herself she was just being silly. There was nothing wrong, or different about her daughter.

Minutes later Isabelle Larine was busy preparing dinner for her husband and her daughter, and attempting to push the absurd thoughts about Taryn from her head.


	3. Chapter 2

For the past eight years Lucivar Yaslana wondered why Daemon never came. With each passing day, fleeing week, relentless month and unforgiving year his hope and will had been drained. For the past five weeks though Lucivar had found himself replenished of both his hope, and will. For the first two weeks he had initially thought he was going mad. The week after that he realized she was real, and that he wasn't going crazy after all. The two weeks that followed that the half-Eyrien had insisted she stay away, but realized quickly that she wasn't going to listen to a word he said.

She was so much like his little Cat, but so different at the same time. He knew that the dream was not just that, and mourned for the queen he'd never get to serve. Lucivar knew that, that was probably the reason Daemon never came, he had most likely given up on everything.

'Even me.' The Ebon-gray jeweled male thought bitterly, as he smashed his fist against the stone walls of his underground prison.

"Did I come at a bad time?" A soft voice questioned from his left.

"Never doll." He said a grin on his face as he looked at her.

She was tiny even for her age, her head barely reaching above his waist. Her skin was pale, but held a sun kissed tone to it. Her features were that of a child, but she would be devastating within the next five years or so. Then there was her hair, a dark, almost raven, brown which hung below her shoulders in neat loose curls.

The most distinguishing thing about her though was her eyes. They were the liveliest color green Lucivar had ever seen, and they held so much knowledge, wisdom, and power in them.

Lucivar never asked her name, not wanting that knowledge. That was the reason for his reference to her as 'doll', seeing as she reminded him of a perfect porcelain doll.

Smiling back at him she skipped and stood before him, before wrapping her tiny arms around his legs in a hug. Laughing slightly he bent down and returned it.

"I have a surprise for you today." She said, excitement dripping from every word.

"And what is this surprise?"

"Today is the day I free you Lucivar."

Staring at her, he shook his head. "You can't, there's no way."

Glaring at him, Taryn stuck her chin in the air slightly, and spoke in a voice that made the Eyrien warrior shiver. "I can, and I will."

"Even if you can, I won't let you. Zuultah would know, and I won't let her take you from me."

"She won't know. I can do this, I know I can." She pleaded slightly, pouting at him. "Let me help you."

Lucivar ran a hand down his face, and sighed. "You're too young to deal with where my binding is. You coming to visit is enough help, and freedom for now."

With a huff, she turned and began walking away from him.

"Don't be like that doll." He said warily, before moving forward and scooping her into his arms, and holding her close.

Sighing she didn't struggle, and leaned into his embrace. "I can't visit as much anymore." She said softly, and that sentence made his heart break. "That's why I wanted to free you. I wanted you to come with me. Tersa said it's time for me to leave Pruul, and my life here."

'Tersa' Lucivar knew that name well, but couldn't understand why the young witch in his arms would.

"You know Tersa?"

"Yes, she's so nice Lucivar." She gushed. "She's been helping me, and I've been helping her."

"Where does she want you to go doll?"

"To the High Lord's keep."

'Hell' He thought to himself. Tersa wanted her to go to Hell.

"Who does she want to teach you?" He asked a hint of worry in his voice.

"That's a silly question Lucivar." She said with a giggle. "The High Lord of course."


	4. Chapter 3

Daemon Sadi was sitting by himself in the room he had been residing in for the past eight years. He had lived in the keep with his father since the incident, not knowing where exactly to go or what to do. For months after the happenings at the altar he refused to move, refused to live without Witch. He knew if it weren't for his father, Andulvar, and Memphis he wouldn't be here.

'Maybe that would be for the better.' He thought to himself bitterly.

Saetan had stepped up when Jaenelle had passed; he had pushed his own feelings aside in order to protect his son from himself. In solitude he wept over the loss of the daughter of his soul.

A knock on the door interrupted Daemon's thoughts, and alone time.

Grumbling as he unlocked the door, he swung it open in a fluid motion, and leaned against the door frame, his eyes meeting with Andulvar's.

"Yes?" His silky voice drawled, as he raised an eyebrow at the Demon-dead Warlord Prince.

"The High Lord wishes to see you in his study."

Nodding, Daemon moved so he was standing straight. "Thank you for the message Andulvar."

Parting Daemon walked down the hall opposite Andulver, and made his way down the stairs, and towards Saetan's study. He wasn't sure that he liked the fact that everyone in the keep were trying to make their way as far as possible from where he was heading.

Lightly rapping his knuckles against the large wooden door, Daemon listened intently, hearing the predictable "Come in." from the other side. Pushing it open, his eyes focused on the woman seated in one of the chairs before Saetan's desk.

"Tersa. " He said, smiling, and walking over to where she was.

Smiling back, she stood, and welcomed his embrace.

Glancing at the man behind the desk, he noted the serious expression that was placed securely on Saetan's face.

Releasing Tersa, he maneuvered her back into her seat, before taking his own.

"Tersa here has come to inform us of something."

Smiling Tersa nodded, her eyes locking with Daemon's forcing him to remember the face she was in the twisted kingdom.

"She has come. For every action there is a reaction, whether it is seen as a punishment or gift is up to us. Born in the darkest moment of dreams, nightmares have appeared, and are made into flesh. She is not the Witch you celebrate, but Witch that has been cast aside, and unwanted. She is necessary, and needs guidance. Will you accept her?"

Daemon felt his blood run cold. A Witch that wasn't dreams, a Witch that wasn't Jaenelle? Daemon couldn't accept her, didn't want her. Rising from his place he shook his head, and strode to the door. Swinging it open harshly, he glared back at them as he heard three words from Saetan's mouth that made him want to strangle the man, "I accept her." His voice echoed in a whisper.

"Daemon?" Tersa's voice called in question.

"I will never accept her." He spat out bitterly, before slamming the study door behind him.

Leaning back in his chair, Saetan ran a hand over his face, letting out a deep sigh.

"He will come around." Tersa's voice spoke, as if she knew for certain he would.

"What if he doesn't Tersa?"

"Then we will lose another Witch, but this time to a different darkness."


	5. Chapter 4

Thank you to everybody who has **read** and **reviewed**.  
I really enjoy getting **feedback**, so please remember to **message** or leave a **review**.  
I do not own any of the characters, places, settings, or ideas for this story.

* * *

Taryn sat perfectly still before Lucivar, so still in fact that the Eyrien wasn't sure she was breathing anymore. The only reason he was letting her attempt to release him was so he could protect her better. She would need him for where they were going. Hearing noises from beyond the wall of his prison, Lucivar took in a sudden breath. They couldn't be caught; she couldn't fall into Zuultah's hands. Lucivar didn't know how the rose jeweled girl was going to free him, but if she was she'd have to do it fast. Hearing her mumbling something under her breath, his eyes widened as hers shot open and locked with his.

The shock of feeling the ring of obedience vanish from its place around his organ made him choke back a sob of relief. That relief soon vanished as Taryn slumped to the side. Moving quickly he caught her before her head could connect with the stone floor. Gazing down at her he smiled as he noticed her eyes were open and she hadn't feinted.

"Sorry, I got dizzy." She breathed, as he stroked her hair, before wiggling from his arms, and standing.

"Time to go." She said with a clap of her hands.

"Are we going straight to the keep?"

Scrunching up her face, she shrugged. "We can't stay here, and we don't really have anywhere else to go."

"To Hell it is then."

Smiling Taryn grabbed his hand.

"How are we going to get out of here though doll?"

Giving him a look, she shook her head. "By riding the webs."

"There aren't any here."

Making a noise close to a growl, she rolled her eyes. "Yes there are, how do you think I get here?"

Staying quiet Lucivar tried to feel for a web, but couldn't.

"Just hold my hand silly." She chats sized.

Opening his mouth to say something, he closed it as he felt a familiar, but foreign feeling take over him. The web they were riding held no color that he could see.

Lucivar wasn't sure how long it took for them to get to their destination. Of course he thought they were going to a gate to switch realms. Honestly, Lucivar had no idea how they were even getting to Hell.

His feet connected with solid ground, and for a moment he stood in a daze.

"Lucivar?" That small, yet powerful voice questioned with worry.

"Where are we?"

Pulling her hand free, she stood before him, hands on her hips with a look asking 'are you serious?'

"We're at the High Lord's keep." She spoke slowly, in a condescending tone.

All Lucivar could think was that the jewel Taryn possessed had to be for show, because there was no way a witch wearing rose could do the things his little witch could.


	6. Chapter 5

Thank you to everybody who has **read** and **reviewed**.  
I really enjoy getting **feedback**, so please remember to **message** or leave a **review**.  
I do not own any of the characters, places, settings, or ideas for this story.

* * *

Taryn couldn't understand why nobody had come to open the grand doors of the keep. Letting out a frustrated snarl, she drew some more energy from her rose jewel and amplified her knocking.

Lucivar snickered from behind her, only to earn a glare.

"Doll, you have to use more physical force."

Growling, she turned to the door, and used some energy from her hidden black jewel. Slamming her fist on the wooden doors three times she smiled with accomplishment.

Lucivar stared in shock at the cracks that formed with each knock from her tiny fists. Making a whistling noise, he looked at the damage with approval.

"Enough force?" She snarled.

"I'd hope so." He said voice full of amusement.

Now inside the keep, those inside were startled by the large 'booms' that echoed off the walls. Daemon just so happened to be the closest to the front door. Saetan felt the shock ripple through his study, and was making his way at a fast pace toward the keep's entrance, along with Andulvar and Memphis.

Swinging the door open in a rather hostile fashion, Daemon was shocked into silence at the sight of his half-brother, but even more so because of the small, dark haired girl attacking him.

Lucivar chuckled and pulled the struggling girl close, "Someone is a tired little, grumpy witch."

Finally realizing the door was open, his eyes met with a familiar pair.

"Bastard?"

"Prick?"

"Daemon what's going on here?" Saetan's voice rang as he now stood beside his son and looked at what caused the commotion.

"Lucivar?"

"Who the hell are you?" Lucivar asked, before hissing, as the girl in his arms bit him.

"Be more respectful to the High Lord." She ordered, as she removed herself from his loosened grasp.

"And who are you little girl?" Saetan asked smiling.

Looking nervous Taryn shifted her feet.

"Taryn Elizabeth."

Lucivar smiled, it was nice actually being able to know her name.

"Tersa told me to come here."

At that comment Daemon's eyes snapped to her. With a glare, he stormed away leaving a frustrated High Lord, a confused, yet angry Lucivar, and an extremely upset Witch to sort out what exactly was going on.


End file.
